The seven deadly things that’ll ruin your summer

If you have a good think, there’s probably a range of things that you could insert into your own list regarding things that always destroy your summer plans. Here’s guessing however that the seven things below have most likely ended up on your own lists at one point. So have a flick through whilst sipping that cocktail- it may very well be your last.

1. Flies

They’re the scum of all insects. At least ants seem cute and live in some sort of a family. Flies insist on buzzing around the barbeque as if you were cooking up roadkill found on a highway strip in Indiana. As one of mother nature’s most deathly creatures, I do wonder their point of existence. They’re the typical summer nuisance and not enough fly spray in the world could get rid of the colony dwelling in my backyard. Not even our dear friend Louie the Fly could be killed with ten tins of Mortein…

2. Bindies

Something resembling a flower with a sting like a bee, these weeds are the dread of shoeless children the country over. More ferocious than a wasp’s point, messing around in the garden was more of a torture than a treasure come summertime. Break out the weedkiller before you dare go barefoot on your own front lawn.

3. Old ‘tin-can’ trains

It’s just a shake, a rattle, a roll. That’s all there is to it for a typical ride on a K, C or V set train carriage on the Cityrail network. Tin cans until they hit the scrapyard or are transformed into a gimmicky tourist attraction in Eveleigh, these trains are noisy, airless time-sucking monsters. The asian megacities Hong Kong and Tokyo look down on Sydney’s train fleet in utter dismay, incredibly confused as to how the Fat Controller running Sydney Trains just can’t place an order for some more air-conditioned people movers. Gladys Berejiklian certainly has her work cut out for her when it comes to “fixing the trains”. Good luck, love, good luck.

4. Mosquitoes

Time to prepare your shopping trolley for copious amounts of Air-raid and anti-itching cream, because as the sun goes down and the moon comes up, so do a million of your worst nightmares en-masse. Mosquitoes are notoriously spiteful the world over. Blood-sucking demons known to spread malaria, they swarm underneath Australian patios and pergolas, waiting to strike with the swiftness of a ninja on steroids. Move over Edward Cullen, it’s time to mesh up the fly screens because these suckers are coming for your delicious blood.

Review of The Histrionic (Der Theatermacher)

The Histrionic is a deliciously devilish spin on the inner (and outer) most thoughts of every uber-egotistical actor to date. Served with generous lashings of frittata soup and performed to a tea by headliner Billie Brown, the Malthouse/Sydney Theatre Company collaboration will have the dullest of theatregoers giggling like Japanese schoolgirls.

Set solely in the inn of a rustic Austrian town named Utzbach, with a pigsty and numerous mentions of blood sausage to boot, actor Bruscon (Brown) struggles to patch together a workable performance of his ‘worldly masterpiece’, The Wheel of History.

Brown’s performance as self-indulgent Bruscon is exaggerated perfection, ringing true for an eccentric playwright who declares himself the greatest in “the history of the world.” Bruscon consistently critiques his family’s acting abilities and nitpicks at his wife’s ailing predicament (she’s allergic to the smell of pigs), drawing a fine line between narcissism and his misogynistic fanfare. Through and through, his brash personality is complimented with the supporting cast’s fine accompaniment.

Barry Otto sidelines as the twitching, terror-filled innkeeper, aiming to please his tempestuous guest. His performance was enriched by his wife and daughter’s humorous country-bumpkin background shenanigans, yet the entire play succumbs to Brown’s hedonistic, attention-grabbing monologues – a guilty eye-opening, hate-filling pleasure for all.

Writer Thomas Bernhard innocently criticises his Alpine motherland with insults ranging from a light-hearted attack of Austria’s ignorant infatuation with Hitler to the lack of culinary delights. Marg Horwell’s set design and Daniel Schlusser’s directorial skills shine through in the effectiveness of staging rampant familial chaos.

Tickets are well worth the student-friendly price tag. So save up the moolah for a cultural night on the town and rather than those extra puke-inducing vodka shots, consider a pre-performance cocktail at the Wharf Bar. Because we all enjoy being that little bit classy.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★
By Ryan Auberson-Walsh

This review was first published online at the Vertigo Magazine website.

That house isn’t fooling anyone.

McMansions are the inbred cousins of real estate.

All those completely misleading picture perfect housing estates are not unique and full of vibrant character…. They’re prefabricated copies of something not even Jim Masterton himself would live in, and they’re coming to a suburb near you.

I grew up learning of the beauties behind suburban life. Yet little these days is giving me hope of something as glamorous as owning my own home away from all the hustle and bustle, especially if Mr O’Farrell remains complacent about NSW’s infrastructure checklist.

With suburbia morphing into an infectious weed, slowly creeping further toward Sydney’s native bushland, our dear Barry’s lack of infrastructure supply never seems to reach all the new housing he’s been pushing for (Though technically none of the structures are anything close to new by design).

I’m also highly concerned that the ideal lifestyle of owning our own homes is limited to choosing between a price tag for the effortlessly rich or a price tag more affordable, with a less pleasing cost… living in something that resembles every other house on the block.

You’d think that architects could at least come up with some more interesting designs, rather than making a few blueprint photocopies and getting ignorant approvals by developers. If I had a three-year-old daughter she would be able to design a home grander than anything you’d see on a Mirvac plot.

So to those who are blinded by the [much] cheaper price tag, think again. Is living in ‘paradise’ really worth encouraging developers to build brick-and-mortar-copies of your home for the crazy cat lady down the street? No, I didn’t think so.

The next time you’re about to sign over your better judgement, at least consider a paint job. That change in brick colour’s not fooling anyone.

Down with planned communities, your humble local architect for president.

Backyard to Bush

Just a few things near home and around the Sydney area that I’ve found really beautiful in their simplicity.

Like I said guys, I’d like to show you a different side to Sydney. Here’s step one.

Join me on the path and see even more…

Lots of love,
Ryan

Sydney Festival, Parramatta

For those who may me wondering how I’m doing, I’d like to let you know I’ve been catching up with a lot friends and I’ve even gotten my job at General Pants Co. back! :]

Anyway…. this weekend, as I’ve been on a serious budget, I managed to check out a few things in Parramatta that were part of this years Sydney Festival. On Saturday night I met with some friends and we watched a concert “under the stars” (there were two stars in the sky) at the Old Kings School Site and saw the brilliant Busby Marou, the country music queen Kasey Chambers and the sultry Dan Sultan… some amazing talent. It made for a great show…. seriously great show. AND IT WAS FREE!

On Sunday night I returned to Parra with a friend and watched a bizarrely brilliant burlesque-like show called Briefs in Sydney Festival’s Idolize Spiegeltent. It starred six sexy men from Ipswich, Queensland. If anyone ever has the opportunity to see this, PLEASE do. It’s worth the thirty bucks.

Here’s a few snaps of Parramatta and the Sydney Festival venue.

Hope you’re all well. :]
Ryan
x

I Still Call Australia Home

For a few days, it felt incredibly strange being back in the land down under…. where women glow and men plunder. I found the 24 degree celsius temperatures too hot, I found the wide open spaces strange and I found the sound of every bogan repulsive. But in a way, I’ve come to realise over the past week, that that’s all part of Australia’s rough and ready charm.

I seriously won’t forget my year away in Germany. But after seeing Sydney’s majestic harbour and spending a day with a friend in Luna Park on Sydney’s Milsons Point, it was clear to me where my heart lay all along; here in this gem of an antipodean paradise.

So here’s some photos for those who are dying to see what it’s like looking over that expanse of water between my city’s harbour shores. Hope you enjoy. :]

Wishing you all the best. :]

Ryan
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Strangest feeling in the world.

No, it’s not having a baby move inside a mother’s belly, it’s not the numbness surrounding my fresh septum piercing and it’s definitely not about what happens to every man when he (and his best friend) wake up in the morning.

I’m referring to being back home in the western suburbs of Sydney, Australia, after a year living in one of Europe’s oldest cities, and Germany’s third oldest. I miss it already. Everything here feels as if it’s part of a Salvador Dali dreamscape. My vision is warped and all I’m seeing is pretty colours, hardly seeing the Sydney, or home, I once knew. I’m not sure if it’s the jetlag after a 28 hour trip or it’s the strange Australian food… but all I can say is, if I’m not feeling back to normal within three weeks, i’ll still be asking myself “what the bloody hell am I doing here?”.

Augsburg, I miss you baby. And to all those people who are wondering where a blog about a year on exchange goes from here, it doesn’t stop. Those cute little Animails cartoons shall be frequently posted and I shall simply move my home base from Germany to Australia, so expect a lot of lovely pictures of Sydney! She is a beautiful city, I have to say… it’s just a little hard seeing all her beauty when I haven’t slept well in the past 96 hours.

A very tired chump,
your Ryan. :]
x

Smell the superficiality [#14]

Oh, the HSC (Higher School Certificate)…. thank the heavens it’s now behind me.

Today’s Song: Lykke Li - I’m Good, I’m Gone

That horrible time of overdue assessment tasks, the bombardment of exams ranging from oral to written, the practical assignments… it’s now all over. (Well, has been for the past 12 months), but I’ve still got some of the photos from my HSC Visual Arts Body of Work on my laptop.

So I thought I may as well upload them and share them with the world. :]

As can be seen in some photos, I’ve used soap shavings and moulded them into the Chanel logo, trying to get a point across about the brutality and seemingly perfect outer skin of the fashion industry, which is in fact rather superficial and heartless, stemming from harsh factory settings on the production level.

The original test proved an inappropriate location, as the gorgeous graffiti work overpowered my message… I later moved the location to the nearby Casula Powerhouse, and added to other couture fashion labels to the mix; Louis Vuitton and Yves Saint Laurent.
I then recycled the soap shavings and placed them into three sky-blue hand-sewn sachet’s, similar to these. It then became an interactive installation, where people could view the photos and smell the soap, intensifying my point of the fashion industry’s positive standpoint on outer beauty.